


Journeying

by MilesOfWords



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Young Sam Gamgee - Freeform, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesOfWords/pseuds/MilesOfWords
Summary: Sam sat up quickly and spun around. Tom Cotton was making his way through the dappled shade of the copse, thumbs tucked low around his suspenders, a wide, easy smile lighting his face. Sam waved a greeting and then glanced down at his words laid out in the dirt. The song was in his head and his heart already - the bit that he'd finished anyway. He never forgot the words once he had them right. Still, there was a moment’s hesitation before he casually reached across and wiped away the imprint of his song on the soil. By the time Tom reached him there was nothing left to see.Sam and Tom have always lived in Hobbiton. Lately, Sam has noticed that they also live in different worlds.





	Journeying

Sam lay on his stomach, stretched out on the dirt under a dense canopy of leaves. The large patch of moss nestled among the tree’s roots felt soft under his toes, and he poked them absently into its depth. He jiggled slightly, bouncing with the rhythm of the tune running through his mind. In his hand was gripped a thin twig, stripped of leaves and whittled to a fine point. Occasionally the jiggling and prodding would give way to stillness, and Sam would carefully spell out some words in the hard-packed dirt. He would study them for a while, then take up his tune from the beginning and sing his way through to the new lines in front of him. If he was satisfied, he would wriggle further back under the tree, leaving more space for the words that were yet to come. If the new additions didn’t earn their place along with the verses he’d already written he would mutter a little and use the flat stone at his side to pack that patch of dirt firm, ready for another try.

It was a fine Highday afternoon in the middle of Wedmath, and the day itself seemed to hum with the contentment he felt. There was nothing he should be doing, and nowhere he was supposed to be. At fifteen these times were becoming less common, which led Sam to delight in them all the more. A breeze stirred the curls on his forehead and pulled his attention away from his song. Not more than twenty steps from where he lay, The Water burbled along its narrow bed, picking up odd gleams of sunlight as that same breeze tossed the leaves on the trees.

‘Oi! There you are, Sam.’

Sam sat up quickly and spun around. Tom Cotton was making his way through the dappled shade of the copse, thumbs tucked low around his suspenders, a wide, easy smile lighting his face. Sam waved a greeting and then glanced down at his words laid out in the dirt. The song was in his head and his heart already - the bit that he'd finished anyway. He never forgot the words once he had them right. Still, there was a moment’s hesitation before he casually reached across and wiped away the imprint of his song on the soil. By the time Tom reached him there was nothing left to see.

‘And what’d you be doing out here all by yourself, young Sam?’ Tom eyed his friend quizzically.

‘Never mind with the ‘young Sam’, Tom Cotton. It’s well past Astron and I’m the same age as you again, as you know. You’re naught but a few months older than me no matter how you look at it, and I’m a might bigger than you, besides.’

‘Ah, ‘tis true Sammy. But I’m smarter and better looking. No amount of growing will catch you up with me there.’ Tom winked at Sam. He hadn’t yet sat down, and Sam was beginning to feel uncomfortable peering up at his friend. Just as he decided to stand though, Tom crouched and then settled beside him on the dirt.

‘But really, Sam, what are you doing out here all alone? Not hiding out are you?’

‘And why would I be doing that?’ Sam asked.

 

Tom looked his friend over. Sam was open and honest beyond what was sometimes good for him. So much so that Tom sometimes felt embarrassed on his behalf when Sam, himself, didn’t seem to realise he’d spoken or acted amiss. It could be right embarrassing in front of some of the other lads, and there were times when Tom wished Sam would learn not to say some of the Bagginsish things that came into his head – for in Tom’s mind there was no doubt where the source of Sam’s growing strangeness could be found. On the other hand, Tom was fairly certain Sam wouldn’t be able to deceive anyone, and it seemed that right now Sam’s curiosity was genuine.

‘I just thought things might be a bit busy at number three, what with Halfred getting himself ready to go North. Not a good time to be under foot, I’m thinking.’

‘Nah, he’s ready enough. He was helping da’ with a bit of this and that this morning. They were gabbing about Uncle Andy and cousin Anson and Aunty May and such. Nothing I hadn’t heard before, but I suppose it’s all interesting again to Hal now that he’s going to be seeing them in a bit.’

‘So he’ll be staying with them and learning roping along with Hamson, will he?’ Tom asked. Nothing about this conversation was matching up with the whispered words he’d overheard between his parents just this morning. His ma’ seemed to think something terribly sad was happening and his da’ was strong on the idea that there must be some hard feelings behind it, though between whom he didn’t seem to say.

‘I don’t think he will,’ Sam offered. ‘He’s going to visit with them to begin with but I don’t think roping’ll be his thing. You know how he is with the ponies and goats and the cow and such. He’s right good with all kinds of creatures, really. I reckon he’ll find something to be doing that will put him out among the livestock.’

‘But couldn’t he be doing that here in Hobbiton, Sam?’ Tom asked. He’d reached the end of his ability to favour tact over curiosity.

‘Well, I suppose so. He seems to want a change though. And it’s not like he’s doing anything amiss. All our family is from up that way, anyway. He’ll be surrounded by Gamgees and Gamgee relations.’

Tom was growing frustrated. ‘It just seems odd, is all. I can’t see me going off and leaving everything behind when I’m grown’ he huffed. It wasn’t that he’d wanted Sam to be upset or for difficult things to be happening in the Gamgee family, but he’d at least expected some sort of inside information that he could let drop, let his parents see that he was no bairn that they must whisper in front of. It wasn’t as though the youngsters had been in the room, after all.

‘What’s got into you, Tom? It’s different for you, is all. You have the farm, and of course you won’t be leaving it. Gamgees ain’t usually gardeners and even if Hal wished to be one, there ain’t room for more gardeners at Bag End, no how. Me and Da’ keep up with the big garden just fine. Hal’s only setting off to find his own way, is all. He don’t mean no harm by it and I’m plenty big enough to help Da’ look out for the family, now.’

‘Alright, Sam. I see what you mean. So then, if you’re not hiding, what are you doing out here? Not reading a book are you?’ Tom looked around, wondering if he might see the offending item somewhere nearby.

For some reason, that made Sam laugh. ‘Nah. Just catching a moment to myself. It’s right pretty out here with the leaves all aquiver and the birds telling all who’ll listen that autumn’s soon to be settling in.’ 

Tom studied the ground in front of him and jiggled his foot while he let that one pass over him. ‘You reckon autumn’s going to come in right from the get-go do you? I wouldn’t mind an early end to the heat. I swear I’ve sweated enough to fill Bywater pool, the time I’ve spent in the fields this summer.’

‘You’re right there. It’s been that hot up in the garden as well. I don’t know when I’ve ever carried so much water, neither. The flowers have been mighty thirsty, and the vegies too, of course. Not that I mind really. Da’ says if I work hard and learn well I just might take over from him up at Bag End when I’m grown. I reckon there’s not much I’d like better than that.’

‘Right.’  Tom caught himself in time to avoid shaking his head. He did like Sam, truly. ‘Want to come for a walk and see who’s about, then?’  He glanced around, wondering if some of the other lads might appear among the trees.

‘Sorry. I’d best be getting back. We’re having a special dinner for Hal tonight. Daisy’d been at it for hours when I left. She all but threw me out of the kitchen, but perhaps if she’s busy enough she might not be against a bit of help by now.’  Sam smiled at the prospect.

‘I’ll walk with you a bit then’ Tom offered.

 

Sam got up and dusted himself down. While he waited for Tom to do the same, he glanced at the scuffed remnants of his afternoon’s creation. Not for the first time, he wondered that two different worlds could pass by each other and never really collide. It occurred to him that Hal was making a far smaller journey, moving to the North Farthing, than Sam made every time he walked up The Hill.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was originally part of a larger work that I'm unlikely to ever finish.


End file.
